


New Ways To Fall Apart

by orphan_account



Series: Chao's Kink Bingo [24]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Collars, Community: kink_bingo, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Turned out kinda odd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles can't help but notice Jackson's new necklace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Ways To Fall Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'We Are Young' by fun

At first, the sudden appearance of Jackson’s new necklace wasn’t a big deal. It was one of those braided white things that could be bought at any beachside tourist trap. Other than being rather simple, it was exactly Jackson’s brand of jock-style douchbaggery, and so Stiles hadn’t given it more than a moment’s thought and an eyeroll.

That was, until Jackson started to act differently. It wasn’t anything big, or certainly nothing bad. Just different. He was a little more relaxed now. Sometimes it seemed like he was slightly less likely to jump down the throat of whatever pool soul managed to get in his way. Not such much with the pseudo Alpha Male bullshit, in short.

But even that was only mildly interesting to Stiles. Well, that and a bit of a relief. It wasn’t until he, on one of his usual random tangents of thought during class, realized that he didn’t ‘think this new, chill Jackson would have turned into the Kanima that the change really registered.

That’s when Stiles started to pay attention.

Then he noticed how Jackson would start to play with the necklace when things didn’t go his way. How his fingers would tangle in the individual, rough strands while he took notes. How he never seemed to touch the class, moving up and over like making contact it would cause him pain.

And then, when he pulled back his focus a little, Stiles started to notice some other interesting things. Like how Danny had taken to glancing at it every so often, and how it always tugged up the corner of his lips, or how he would tug at it when the two of them were interacting one-on-one. More importantly, how Jackson would roll his eyes and huff, but how his eyes went a little warmer, even _heated_ , from the attention. And that only came from Danny, so far as Stiles could tell.

Which meant that the necklace was probably from Danny. But Stiles couldn’t figure out why they were both acting that way about it. And that made it a mystery.

Stiles had never been good at letting go of mysteries.

And when he was hooked on a mystery, he wasn’t particularly good at being subtle, either.

That was probably why Danny turned to catch his eye one day, while Stiles was staring lasers into Jackson’s neck. And almost definitely why he smirked and nodded, like he’d figured something out, although Stiles had no idea what. It wasn’t, however, the reason Danny tracked him down after class, crowding him against his locker without breaking Stiles’ personal bubble (which was a useful trick that Stiles would really love to learn, especially against werewolves who didn’t bother with the personal space parts).

“I see you’ve noticed,” he commented, voice astonishingly chipper for someone who was making Stiles want to back away slowly, or maybe cower a little. “How much do you know?”

Stiles wanted to deny knowing what Danny was talking about, but a look quelled him, and _really_ , how did he do that? An _actual_ Alpha couldn’t make Stiles give in, but Danny could with body language. He should be taking notes. “That you got Jackson that necklace and it’s making him act less like a douche,” he answered honestly, and was mildly relieved when Danny chuckled instead of took offense for Jackson’s sake.

Once his amusement faded, Danny raised a brow. “That’s it?”

Considering the circumstances and the clues he had, Stiles was pretty sure he’d done a commendable job. So he stood a little straighter and met Danny’s eyes head on, and thought he might have seen a bit of respect bloom there. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Danny gave a little of hum of thought, before nodding like he had during class. “Wanna know more?”

What? That sounded like some kind of invitation, which was kinda weird. Raising a brow of his own, Stiles just gave a slightly confused nod. “Sure? You’re gunna explain it to me, then?”

Slowly, Danny smiled. It was predatory and dark in a _promising_ sort of way, and Stiles shivered voluntarily. “I thought we could show you. Come by Jackson’s after dinner. Eat well. You’ll need it.” With a last pat on the shoulder - come to think of it, Stiles didn’t think Danny had ever touched him outside of lacrosse before - he slid back into the crowd of students preparing leaving school. Through the masses, Stiles could see him met up with Jackson, and speak with him. The co-captain’s gaze snapped to Stiles, considering and almost nervous, before he gave a nod of his own and they both walked away.

Once they were gone, Stiles thought he might have had the nature of his mystery completely wrong.

After a moment of consideration, he knew he was going to be going to Jackson’s anyway.

***

Around seven, Stiles rolled up in front of Jackson’s house. Instead of going in right away, he just sort of sat. Nervousness was clawing at his stomach, and he stared at the house rather than deal with his emotions. It was the same sort of huge would-be-mansion that Lydia had, but most of the rooms were dark in the fading light. Other than his and Jackson’s care, the driveway was bare. Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Whittemore spent long nights at the office? 

Pity wasn’t unfamiliar when it came to Jackson, especially over the past few months. But for the first time, Stiles felt kind of sympathetic for the guy. He knew all too well how much it sucked to be alone. At least he never had to worry about the extra adoption baggage. For all they had their problems, Stiles and his Dad were family, and they loved each other.

Pulling his keys out of his ignition, Stiles finally hopped out of the car and made his way to the door. For a second, he hesitated, wondering if maybe he should just go now and not get tangled in... whatever it was they were up to, but curiosity kept him there, and the dark windows and empty driveway made him knock.

To his surprise, it wasn’t Jackson who answered the door, but Danny. Stiles opened his mouth to demand some kind of answer, or maybe just to sputter and babble, but Danny just smirked and gestured to follow. Still a little confused at his own reactions to the other boy, Stiles snapped his jaw shut and slipped in after him, closing the door behind them.

The inside of the house was opulent, even more so than Lydia’s fancy place. There were pictures of the family on the wall, but they were all posed in ways that looked more formal than comfortable, and all of the decorations looks like they hadn’t been touched, other than to be dust and polished. The spiral staircase to the second floor looked more like something he’d see in a TV show then a structure in a Beacon Hills home, and Stiles tucked his hands into his pockets, afraid to touch anything. Idly, he wondered how a five year old Jackson must have felt, to know that this home wasn’t his _real_ families, and if he would have felt like he wasn’t allowed to mess something out too.

It did a lot to explain why Jackson was Jackson. Not excuse - not even close - but explain.

Stiles followed Danny up those intimidating stairs, hands still clenched in his pockets. Only one door had light coming out from under the door, and the other boy moved forward. Arching an eyebrow in Stiles in a way he couldn’t help but think looked like a test, Danny finally gave another one of those nods before opening the door for him, gesturing for him to enter.

The sight of Jackson, lying flat on his stomach with his hands clasped at the small of his back and naked as the day he was born wasn’t exactly unexpected. Then again, neither was his dark pink ass, but Stiles still started.

His gasp must have caught Jackson’s attention, because he started to sit up to look at Stiles. Catching his eyes, he could see the naked nervousness in Jackson’s expression. It was one of the very few times Stiles had seen him without the stupid mask he clung to so desperately, and a bolt of arousal ran through him.

Oh. Huh.

“Five.” The sudden comment came from right over his shoulder, and Stiles jolted. Jackson froze, and for a second relief flashed over his oddly open face, and he dropped back into place. Turning, Stiles looked at Danny, who was watching his reaction with something like curiosity. “Five means five spanks,” he explained, voice casual, and Stiles’ brows rose. Once again, it wasn’t exactly a surprise, but the way he said it was so _frank_ that it was startling.

When Danny didn’t continue, Stiles gave a rolling nod to try and get him to continue. “And? What, you want me to do it?”

Snorting, Danny shook his head and moved over to sit next to Jackson, carding his hand through his short hair. This time, Jackson didn’t pick his head up, but he did lean into the touch, even when Danny’s hand started to close tight around the strands. “Of course not. You ever spanked anyone? In your life?” Stiles shook his head. “Thought so. In short, no. I don’t trust anyone to hurt my boy right.” Yanking Jackson’s head up, Danny pressed a kiss to his mouth as he opened it to groan. “But that’s not all he needs. My boy needs someone to be sweet for him. Supportive. Someone to cling to.” Letting go of Jackson’s head, he let the boy drop it down to the bed, though he tilted toward him, like he missed the touch. When Danny caught Stiles’ eye, he could see the pain and disappointment in himself. “I’m not good at that one. So I called in the cavalry. That’s you.”

For a second, Stiles just stared at them both. Then he shook his head, in surprise more than rejection. “Why me?”

Eyes too dark and too sharp, Danny stared at Stiles, and he wished he didn’t feel as pinned by the gaze as he did. “Because that’s what you do. With your Dad and with Scott and with the Pack.”

Real shock ran through him, and Stiles blinked at him. “You know?”

Danny shot him a bland look. “With the way you all _talk_ about it all the time? In the middle of class? You’re lucky the whole town doesn’t know.”

Oh. Huh.

Setting his jaw, Stiles shrugged again. “Well, yeah, someone has to. But it’s not like I do it for shits and giggles. What makes you think I want to do more of it.”

Somehow he’d expected that to make Danny back off, but instead he just smiled like he’d won. “Because you do.” Yeah, that explained everything. Stiles was enlightened. “Okay, fine. You can leave at any time. If you want, then go.”

Stiles didn’t go. His eyes slid to Jackson’s back. Part of him wanted to turn on his heel just to prove Danny wrong, but he couldn’t just leave the boy. He needed someone, and Stiles could be the person.

More importantly, part of him wanted to. Stiles wanted to curl up around Jackson, to run his fingers through his hair and to make him smile. Really smile, from the open expression he had now, instead of the infuriating, smug one he usually wore. Stiles wanted to kiss along his neck, over the necklace - no, the collar - and to listen to him talk quietly, hear what he really thought, what he would only so now, when his arms were locked behind him and the ache ran through him.

So he stayed, because he couldn’t go, both for Jackson and himself. Not after seeing the museum of a house, and what Jackson’s eyes really looked like.

And judging by Danny’s expression, that was exactly what he’d been betting on.

More than a little frustrated with his own apparent predictability, Stiles sat down on the edge of the bed. Jackson tensed but didn’t move, which earned him a rough pat on the head. After a second, Danny grabbed the back of Jackson’s collar and yanked him up by it. Stiles winced, because that couldn’t be comfortable and just didn’t look safe, but Jackson looked remarkably comfortable, like a kitten hanging from its scruff. “Go on, then,” Danny ordered, using the collar to push Jackson back toward Stiles.

When Jackson’s eyes met Stiles’, it struck him, probably belatedly, that he had no idea what the other boy thought about this. Did he _want_ Stiles to be that person for him? Him of all people seemed like an unlikely choice. But there was something vulnerable and _wanting_ , and Stiles thought about all the times that Jackson had seen him take care of the rest of the Pack. He’d bandaged cuts and helped brush twigs and dirt out of hair and generally fussed around everyone but Derek and Jackson, because he’d assumed the other two wouldn’t want him to. It would seem that he’d been wrong.

After a second, Jackson ducked his head and then slid forward, pressing himself awkwardly against Stiles’ chest and resting his forehead on his shoulder. He ended up almost arched, like he wasn’t sure how this whole hugging thing worked, especially with his arms still held behind him. Rolling his eyes, Stiles reached out and hooked his arms around Jackson’s back, yanking him until they were chest to chest, with the other boy’s weight completely supported.

Once they were settled, and Stiles didn’t feel like the other boy’s weight was going to make him topple over, he tapped the bottom of Jackson’s chin to make him look up, and then moved in for a kiss. He stopped just shy of his lips, because Stiles needed confirmation that Jackson actually wanted this. After a second of confusion, the boy leaned up that last quarter of an inch and pressed their lips together.

It was soft and hesitant and awkward, since both of them were a little too keyed to each other’s movements and kept stalling, but after a minute they got the hang of it, and it became simply sweet. Jackson had a way of pushing into it too hard at first, all bravado and reckless power, before stuttering to an almost shy stop, which was where Stiles took control, directing his tongue and mapping out his mouth. The kiss got even better when Stiles’ hand slipped to the collar, playing with it. Jackson seemed to relax all at once, the reminder of Danny’s ownership making him go pliant, and it seemed a little more open and sweet.

With his other hand, Stiles slid down to caress over Jackson’s stomach and thighs, swallowing the gasp that earned in his mouth. Pulling away just barely, he pressed their foreheads together. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured, and after a second of hesitation, Jackson nodded.

Without any more fuss, Stiles wrapped his hand around Jackson’s cock and started to pump him, fast but gentle. He used every trick he had picked up on himself, like where to press with his thumb or where it was okay to scrape just a little with his nails, and soon Jackson came. The other boy went limp in a new way, curling up and tucking himself under Stiles’ chin, and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around Jackson in a much more functional hug.

After a second, Stiles’ eyes settled on Danny, who was watching with a satisfied expression. Well, his little plan had worked out, so no wonder he was looking a little smug. “Hey, now, you’re going to let Stiles help you and then not give back? That’s not very polite.” Jackson froze, but didn’t go tense like Stiles had expected. Instead he just slid a little away, and then down his body. Then, with the ease of a fish in water (or maybe a werewolf in the forest?), Jackson swallowed him down.

This wasn’t how Stiles had expected his first non-right-hand orgasm to go. But he wasn’t exactly complaining. In fact, he wasn’t complaining at all.

Jackson’s head bobbled, and his lips kept pressing against the base of Stiles’ cock. The heat and the wet and his _tongue oh fuck_ were overwhelming, and he had to use one hand to brace himself. As he shifted, he accidentally bucked into Jackson’s mouth. The other boy stilled and set himself, like he expected Stiles to continue the movement, and gazed up in curiosity when he didn’t. But Stiles wasn’t really sure he was capable of that. Not when Jackson was looking at him like that, and not when he didn’t have to bring out that side of him that could do harsher things.

So, instead he let his fingers grace Jackson’s smooth jaw, the movement nothing but soft, before tangling them loosely in the collar again. Jackson’s eyes seemed to go a little liquid before he continued, just as enthusiastic but less frantic, somehow. Like he was savoring, instead of swallowing like a starving man.

Since it was his first time and Jackson was clearly practiced, it didn’t take long for Stiles to come. The other boy swallowed it all, and then licked him clean after, but didn’t move, keeping his head rested gently on Stiles’ hip. It seemed natural to pet his hair in thanks, and he could feel the ghost of a smile against his skin.

“So,” Danny commented, running his own hand over Jackson’s calves. “I guess you’re staying?”

Sighing, Stiles glanced between them both and then nodded. “I guess I am.” Then he paused, tilting his head. “On one condition, I think.”

If the sudden appearance of Jackson’s new necklace hadn’t been a big deal, then another one, this a simple strap of leather with a small, flat piece of metal not unlike a dog tag, was even less so.


End file.
